


May

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Drama, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e22 What Kind of Day Has It Been, Episode: s02e01 In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Part I, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-04
Updated: 2006-08-04
Packaged: 2019-05-30 16:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15101114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Young, blonde, and attractive, Donna becomes the focus of a lot of unwanted attention as she struggles with work, caring for Josh, and an indefinablethingthat is growing between her and one of her best friends... and he isn't the one that she expected to fall for.first in the POSTER CHILD series





	May

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

  
Author's notes: This is the first installment of an ongoing epic.

I don't own the West Wing, it's characters, or the plot to the episodes this story is based upon.  


* * *

MAY 29, 2000 

It was ten to eleven when I arrived at George Washington University Hospital, my stomach in knots. The shooting had started at nine thirty-seven and had been over by ten eighteen, both suspects presumed dead, but all I knew was what I had heard on the hundred vague news reports of the shooting at Roslyn, Virginia.

My roommate had had the presence of mind to make sure that I had my White House ID when I left the apartment, something that, though I didn’t understand her insistence in my state of shock, I was grateful for after I parked my car ten blocks away and managed to push my way through to the front of the blockade. After finally finding one of the Secret Service agents who knew me—James Franklin, I recalled later—I was allowed in and directed to a private waiting room on the surgical floor where ‘the others’ were waiting for news. Agent Franklin couldn’t tell me how the President was. In the minute and a half that we yelled at each other over the din of the impromptu vigil—as most vigils are—all I managed to get out of him was that someone inside would tell me where to go. So I went inside the hospital and a nurse directed me to the elevators where another agent checked my ID and then sent me up to the waiting room. 

When I push open the door some man, a doctor I assume, is talking. 

“—Twelve to fourteen hours so—” 

“I’m sorry, they told me I should come back here? I’m sorry. Is there word on the President?” I asked, flustered and terrified.

“The President’s going to be fine,” CJ said softly, clearly drained by the events of the night 

“Oh, thank God,” I said, sighing. “Oh, thank God, that’s the best news I’ve ever heard. I got here as fast as I could. I had a hard time getting in. I had—I had to find an agent who knew me, and I was shaking. I was just—I didn’t know—”

“Donna,” Toby said in his typically Toby tone of voice, cutting off my babbling. “Josh was hit.” 

Those three words just didn’t compute. “Hit—hit with what?”

Toby waited a beat to see if anyone else was going to jump in and save him from delivering the news, but no one spoke. 

“He was shot—in the chest.” 

“He’s in surgery right now,” CJ said. 

My mind wasn’t processing any of what they were saying. “I don’t understand. I don’t understand, is—is it serious?” 

“Yes, it’s critical. The bullet collapsed his lung and damaged a major artery,” Toby said. I think I blinked and then the man who I assumed was a doctor started talking again. Other than the dull buzzing of his voice I didn’t actually hear what he was saying, but I was sure that someone in the room, probably Toby, would be able to tell me anything I needed to know if there was anything important. 

I sank into a chair as the doctor left the room. CJ started rubbing circles on my back and out of the corner of my eye I saw Sam tear a piece of paper out of his notebook. He handed the paper to CJ. A release, my mind filled in. I wanted to throttle Sam in that moment. One night on the campaign trail they told me how long they had known each other. Over twenty years, they told me. I was learning to walk when they met. Best friends for over twenty years… and Sam decided to write a press release. I could barely remember to breathe and Sam was writing press releases. 

CJ said something about Leo and Charlie left, probably to get the President some clothes or something, and for the next hour I sat in my chair, shivering, until Sam draped his suit jacket around my shoulders. I pulled it tight, breathing in the comforting scent of Sam—like the ocean after a storm—and managed a slight smile of thanks. Sam draped his arm around my shoulder and I leaned my head on his chest and listened to his heart as we waited for word on Josh. 

“I should call his mother,” I said, sitting upright and pulling away from Sam as I realized that Rachel Lyman had probably heard reports of the shooting—she might have even seen footage on MSNBC if they continued filming the President as he worked the rope line—and, knowing the Lyman family’s propensity for dying before they’re supposed to, her mind would go to worst case scenario. I know mine would. 

“Leo called her when Josh was taken to surgery,” Sam said in a reassuring tone. “She’s trying to get a flight to DC but…”

“The Secret Service and FBI have closed down the airports,” I nodded. Most of the reports I had heard on my way to the hospital had speculated about accomplices on the ground, of further assaults planned, all the usual garbage that I’ve learned to take with a grain of salt since I started working in professional politics. “She should be here,” I said softly. 

Sam nodded but there was little that anyone could do, least of all the two of us, and to try and fail would be worse than doing nothing at all in that moment in time, so I put my head back on Sam’s chest and closed my eyes, comforted in my Sam Seaborn cloud of safety.

Mrs. Landingham arrived a few hours later, forcing cookies from her infamous crystal jar on Sam and Me. Toby dragged Sam away and he took his jacket with him leaving me no choice but to pull my own jacket back on as Mrs. Landingham and I sat silently in uncomfortable waiting room chairs for the first possible moment we were allowed to visit the most important men in our lives.


End file.
